(A customer comes in at about 2 pm; he is the only customer in the store.)

Customer: “Why is there only one person by your tills?”

Coworker: “Because it’s a quiet period. My manager and my other colleague are currently restocking the shelves.”

Customer: “That’s ridiculous! Somebody should be on every till!”

Coworker: “Ma’am, with respect, you’re the only person in the store. Why would we need all three tills to be manned?”

Customer: “I should have the right to choose who I get served by.”

Coworker: “Well, I could buzz for my colleagues if you like?”

Customer: “No, I don’t want to have to wait. I’m busy. I’m in a rush.”

Coworker: “Well, either I can buzz for my colleagues or I can serve you and you can get on with your day. Which would you prefer?”

Customer: “NEITHER! I WANT TO CHOOSE MY TILL!”

Coworker: “Ma’am, those are my only two options. My colleagues aren’t at the till. If you want a choice, I can buzz them and they’ll get here within twenty seconds, or I can serve you and you can be out of the store and getting on with your day within twenty seconds. The choice is utterly yours.”

Customer: “I can’t believe your service is so poor. You know what? I don’t even want this!”

(The customer puts down a bottled drink.)

Customer: “I will just have a drink when I get home.”

(By now, my manager and I have heard the commotion. We come over after the customer leaves.)

Me: “Oh! My accent! Yes, there’s an explanation for that; see when I was a kid—”

Customer: “I don’t want to hear your life story! Why are you ashamed of your heritage? You are probably bringing shame to your family by denying them! I get that there are racists here, but you don’t need to deny who you are! I won’t judge you!”

Me: “Sir, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Customer: “Tell me your parents were born in a different country!”

Me: “Um… they were born in [other country]?”

Customer: “Yes! See how easy that is? Why couldn’t you have just said that in the first place?!”

(I am a female and have worked in the same supermarket for the past five years. I used to be blond, but I decide to dye my hair red. Most people have commented about how they like the new color, and how it suits me, and how they don’t recognize me.)

Customer: “Oh, I see you have dyed your hair. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Me: “Yeah, I was fed up with the original color, so I went for a change.”

Customer: “Well, I don’t like it. I want you to change it right now.”

Me: “You want me to leave work and pay to have my hair dyed a different color because you don’t like it?”

Customer: “Yes, why is that a problem?”

(The customer then stands there for another five minutes waiting for me to leave the till to go re-dye my hair.)

Me: “Ma’am, I cannot leave my till until I finish work.”

Customer: “Well that is just rude. I expect your hair color to be different when I next come in.”

(The customer walks off. I look at my coworker, who looks just as confused as me.)